Infatuated Mania
by MyDreamsToYou
Summary: Many were obsessed with Vincent Phantomhive; always flocking to him like sheep despite the dark shadows he crawled through for the Queen. The reaper was one of them, unable to leave the other's side like a moth to a flame...


Author's Note: I wrote this story for a Secret Santa on Tumblr. It was a tad difficult to get through since the characters are awfully complex in of themselves, but hopefully I portrayed them as accurately as possible! There are no spoilers for those who choose not to keep update with the manga online but they are vaguely hinted but you will never realize. I hope you enjoy :)

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><p>The Undertaker silently watched as noble men and women flitted about the room gracefully; ladies laughing behind feathered fans and gentlemen's smirking lips barely caressed the rims of their wine glasses.<p>

Laughter filled the room and surrounded the silver haired man who chuckled in harmony. Many chose not to approach him and he liked to muse, thinking it was their primal instinct on staying away. Or, it could be how close he was to…death.

His laughter began anew at his internal joke, causing a few gentlemen near him to startle and scowl subtly at him for ruining their conversation. It did not matter if those at the annual Phantomhive Christmas party did not wish to openly converse with him. These humans had little choice in any matter and like death itself, the Undertaker would happen upon them sneakily and suddenly, in hopes to scare them.

Grinning to himself, the Undertaker did not notice the host of the party come behind him in precise steps.

"Enjoying yourself as always," A warm voice spoke.

The Undertaker twisted his head to grin at the man standing behind him, Vincent Phantomhive.

"Of course, if I were to not enjoy myself, it would be too sad of a world to live in!"

Vincent laughed, patting the Undertaker on his shoulder, his brown eyes glowing in the chandelier's light. "Well, I am happy that you are enjoying yourself," The man commented. The Undertaker noticed that Lady Phantomhive and their son were missing.

"And where is the Lady and son?" The Undertaker grinned, making an effort in his actions to look widely for the two.

"She is entertaining guests in the dining room and Ciel has come down with a fever once more. Tanaka is watching him." Vincent remarked a bit sadly, never noticing piercing, green eyes watching his lips. Not that he would, the noble's eyes were covered by long bangs. One rarely saw them and haven't for over a century.

But there had always been something about Vincent Phantomhive that drew the reaper in. The man's soul was a unique one and even humans could sense it, wanting more of the other's light. It was dangerous how well liked Vincent was amongst the masses. He did not know a person who did _not_ like him but he knew many that were obsessed.

The Undertaker chuckled, looping his arm around Vincent's waist to bring him closer. The noble was used to his antics and the reaper was pleased to note he could do this with little resistance. Not that he missed it, of course. One had to keep things interesting and what was more of a way to fun than conflict? But Vincent's heat, the blood rushing through his veins, contented the reaper.

"Allow me to entertain you for the night, or entertain _me_? Tell me a joke! This room needs more laughter!"

Vincent laughed and used his elbow to lean on the other's shoulder. "I would if I knew any, old friend. You remember how horrible I was the first time you asked?"

"Horrible enough to make me laugh!"

The head of the Phantomhive household shook his head and flushed lightly at the memory. "I would rather not embarrass myself in good company," He protested good heartedly.

"You have already embarrassed yourself by holding a Christmas party before its given day," The Undertaker pointed out with a wicked grin.

Vincent shrugged and played it off with a smile. One of the only few that was genuinely present.

"It is never too early to celebrate the holidays!"

_Of course the man would think that_, thought The Undertaker as he chuckled earnestly. How could he deny Vincent the right to celebrate a holiday early? Christmas suited him well with the warmth of the fire, bright candles alight in all corners and the earthy tones of reds that reminded Undertaker of Vincent's eyes rather than the red lipstick he used on his guests.

"I must greet more of my guests, I believe that is dear Frances over there terrorizing that man for his appearance…" Vincent sighed but with a grin. The Undertaker waved him off in amusement despite wishing that the other would stay. Vincent's company was always welcomed and always _wanted._

The next time the Undertaker saw his dear and beautiful friend was a mere few days later in his shop, lying dreadfully dull and mutilated next to his wife. The reaper did not laugh but nor did he cry. Instead, he dutifully went about his job and fixed the Phantomhives up with special care. No matter how much make-up he would put on Vincent's face to bring back the liveliness of it, he would never be able to achieve the warmth that made the noble beautiful.

Many were obsessed with this man; always flocking to him like sheep despite the dark shadows Vincent crawled through for the Queen. The reaper was one of them, unable to leave the other's side like a moth to a flame, except, the Undertaker's own obsession, perhaps, was most dangerous.

After all, he had more resources to bring the dead back and had all the time in the world.


End file.
